Hogwarts Will Always Be There To Welcome You Home
by HPNewsie
Summary: The morning after the Battle of Hogwarts, Harry makes a decision about what to do next with some help from his best friends.


**Author's Note:** I forgot to write an author's note on my previous story, so I'll just say now that I hope you enjoy the first two fanfictions I have posted! Please leave reviews so I know how I did. Thanks!

It was a cracked, broken sort of morning. There seemed to be a filter separating the sunlight and the world below.

Harry Potter sat alone underneath the shattered remains of a stone gargoyle. Every so often it spit out a rock or a piece of stone beside Harry, and groaned. Harry had been sitting there for hours, since the break of dawn, his streaming thoughts interrupted only by the gargoyle's pitiful moans.

Harry felt as if he were in a strange sort of state of apathy. There were so many things to feel joyous about, and yet such a vast sea of things to be miserable about, that his mind seemed to feel like it wouldn't waste time deciding which to feel.

Nothing felt real. Voldemort was really gone. There was no cause for worry or terror, no need to spend every waking moment worrying about what might be happening to relatives or friends. Gone, all seven corrupted pieces of Voldemort's soul destroyed, and he, Harry, had been the one to bring it all about. Why wasn't he ecstatic?

Then Harry thought about the other things he had brought about. The deaths of so many of his schoolmates and closest friends. Lupin, Tonks, Fred. Colin Creevey, the boy who had worshiped Harry's every breath since the day they had met, now lay dead because of him. All the pain and grief that had been induced because he, Harry, had eluded Voldemort's grasp until the right moment. Harry knew it could not have been any other way, but he couldn't help feeling as though he were drowning in guilt.

And Hogwarts, Harry's true home, lay in pieces. The place that had always been a haven to him. There was some spirit around it that even Voldemort and his massive band of Death Eaters hadn't been able to touch. But Harry felt like Hogwarts was barely alive. After all the years it had spent, home to so many centuries of witches and wizards, how much had it been through in the past year?

The gargoyle spit out yet another fragment of rock. Harry caught it in his hand and clenched his fist.

"Harry?" Hermione appeared around the corner of a broken wall. She looked awake and alert after a night's rest, but there were dark circles under her eyes, and her bushy hair refused to be contained in its loose plait.

"Strange, isn't it?" she said, settling herself down on one side of him. "I never thought I'd see Hogwarts like this."

Although he hadn't expected it, Harry really was glad of the company. Ron and Hermione were the only people who truly understood what he had been through.

"Yeah," Harry said. "Really strange. Hey, where's Ron?"

"I'm here, mate." Ron's voice came from around the same corner Hermione had emerged from. "I just had to- make a stop."

Both Harry and Hermione knew what sort of stop he was talking about. His older brother, Fred, had been killed the previous day, and the Weasleys were in mourning. Harry knew that Ron must have been to see Fred.

Shaking his head, Ron walked over to sit next to Hermione and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear, smiling vaguely at her.

"You know, it's taken you two long enough," Harry said, grinning. "I never thought I'd live to see the day."

"Well," Ron said, looking rather embarrassed. "We just figured, if it's ever going to happen, now's the time. Hermione says it was just because of the house-elves."

"Oh Ron, don't be ridiculous," Hermione said. "House-elves had nothing to do with it. It's just that in the light of the- situation- I mean, it was terrifying. I didn't know whether I'd see either of you again, of if you'd see me, or…" she trailed off, her voice shaking.

"I know," Harry said simply. Ron nodded grim agreement.

"How are you?" Hermione asked, swallowing hard and peering at Harry's face. "I mean, how do you feel?"

"I don't know," Harry said honestly. "I mean, we should all be celebrating, right? Voldemort's gone for good. But there's just so much to do. The Ministry's in tatters, Hogwarts is a mess, Voldemort's wreaked havoc all across Europe, we have to contact the Muggle Prime Minister, and we have to clear Muggles' memories, and of course there'll still be lunatics who think Voldemort will manage to come back again. Support for the Dark Arts won't have died out completely."

The three of them sat in silence for a moment, Hermione holding Harry's hand while resting her head on Ron's shoulder. Suddenly, a huge barn owl came swooping down towards them from out of the sky, leading a group of five more behind him. The owl hovered before Harry and waited for him to untie the scroll from his leg.

"What the-" Ron exclaimed, as more owls made straight for them.

"Help me get the letters," Harry said, and Ron and Hermione began extracting the notes from the ever-increasing number of owls.

With shaking hands, Harry unrolled the letter that the barn owl had brought.

 _Dear Mr. Potter,_

 _Word has reach my family by now that you have succeeded in ridding the world of the Dark Lord. You cannot know how thankful we are to you, and how much in awe of your bravery. I just wanted to let you know that you have my vote for the new Minister of Magic._

 _Sincerely yours,_

 _Cuthbert Pringle_

"No way," said Harry in disbelief. "He wants _me_? Just because I defeated Voldemort doesn't mean I'd be a good Minister of Magic! I'm seventeen years old! It should really be you, Hermione, you've got the brains for it."

"Because I'm so much older than you," Hermione said. "Oh Harry, don't you understand? You're a hero, you killed Voldemort! They don't want just any wizard for Minister. People want to see you leading them through the rebuilding of the wizarding world. Marcia Whipple wants you for Minister too!"

"So does Albert Inglewood. He's _begging_ you to take the post. These people seem pretty desperate, mate." Ron said.

"Of course they are, Ron, they're still scared! Harry, you have to accept."

"But they can't be serious!" Harry said. "This is mad. I don't _want_ to be Minister. I'd make everything worse. I don't want all this. I didn't choose this life, Hermione. I never wanted to grow up famous for something I didn't even do. I didn't want my parents dead before I even properly knew them, and I didn't want to be right in the center of the biggest wizarding war of all time. But now it's all over, and I want to be a normal wizard. I don't care if every witch and wizard in the world writes to me telling me they want me for Minister of Magic. I'm not doing it."

"Well-" Hermione began to argue, and then looked at Harry's determined face. "I understand," she said quietly. "You're right. But- who _will_ be Minister? It's going to take a while for people to place their trust in someone."

"I dunno," Ron said. " But I reckon Kingsley's doing all right for the moment."

"Harry, what are you going to do next?" asked Hermione cautiously. "Where are you thinking of going?"

Harry looked around at the fragmented state of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. He remembered how he had felt first seeing it, and how going back to Privet Drive every summer always felt more like leaving home than going. The welcoming feasts, the starry ceiling, bewitched to look like the night sky, as he had been told by Hermione countless times. The hundreds of secret passageways that even Fred and George hadn't known about. The endless secrets, mysteries, history, and a future that no witch or wizard could fathom. Where Harry's life as a wizard had begun. Whatever condition Hogwarts was in, the castle would always be home to Harry, and he realized what he had to do.

"I'm not going anywhere," he said. "Hogwarts is my home. I'm going to stay here and help rebuild it, and find good teachers, and make it the way it used to be. I've got to. Remember Dumbledore said to us once, 'Help will always be given at Hogwarts to those who ask for it.' And it's been true, all these years. We've got to fix it. And I'm not leaving until it's completely restored."

Ron and Hermione looked at each other. "Neither are we," they said.

Harry smiled, and was happier than he could possibly explain that, no matter what, he could always call Hogwarts home.


End file.
